Daniel Cann

Before I went inter-railing in Europe and backpacking across the World I did a very simple trip that has stayed with me as a positive reminder of not only a more gentler, safer age, but also the initial spark that made me want to travel further afield. Without realizing it that day was to set me off on a course that would eventually open the World up to me and provide me with many fond memories and journeys of self-discovery.

Picture this: The late 1980s. I am fourteen, my brother, Dominic is twelve and once again our annual holiday that we look forward to is in Cornwall where we have family on our Mum's side. All the usual elements are there: sand, surf, pasties, fish and chips, ice-cream, screaming kids, tired parents, aggressive sea gulls. Yes, undoubtedly we are in Cornwall with what feels like the rest of England. But we don't mind one bit. We are staying at our grandparents and enjoying our freedom at the tail end of the summer holidays. The unpalatable prospect of going back to school is looming, so we are throwing ourselves into everything we can with gusto.

Towards the end of our stay we are told that we will have to be up early the next day as we will be catching the Penzance Ferry to the Isles of Scilly. Not even sure where the Scilly Isles are its nontheless an unexpected adventure. With our Dad and our Grandpa going with us it is in its own way, our first 'lads day out' or 'jolly boys outing.' Hey, its rite of passage time.

The next morning came quickly and when our Dad woke us it still felt like in the middle of the night. All through my childhood I can remember my Dad waking me up, usually for a boxing match from Las Vegas, he never seemed to mind the early starts and he was as reliable as ever. If he said he would wake you at a certain time, guaranteed he would be there spot on time. I never missed anything thanks to Dad. My brother and I were soon ready and the four of us left the house trying desperately not to wake the women (hell hath no fury like a woman woken up before she is ready).

Before we knew it we were in Penzance, the roads at that time of the morning were not yet the crazy mass of humanity and desperation that plagues the Westcountry every summer. Rubbing sleep from our eyes and drinking tea and coffee in an attempt to wake up we boarded the ferry with the other foot passengers wondering what was ahead for us.

Gramps (as we called him) seemed more jaunty than usual. He was a lot more perkier than the rest of us. On board the Scillonian Ferry we could smell the diesel and sea air and feel the engines below our feet. Our fellow passengers looked in a general state of disarray and the combination of the early start, together with the smells and vibrations resulted in most of them already looking a little green. The sun rose revealing a bright but generally grey day. There was a slight wind and once we got out to sea conditions could be described as 'choppy.' (a nice euphemism for rough).

Dad and Dominic opted to stay inside for the journey, whilst Gramps and I made our way to the deck outside. At the aft (the rear of the ferry) we took our place leaning back against the rail, smelling the salty sea air and feeling the thud, thud, thud of the engine. I felt better out here. The fresh air and the sea was preferable to the inside of the ferry. I could not get used to the sight of people eating and drinking and walking around while everything was at an unusual and unnatural angle. It looked like we were all in a live episode of 'Batman' and not fancying surrealism that early in the morning outside was the best place for me to be.

I had been on a school trip to Brittany earlier that year and the year before so I was no stranger to travel by ferry, but thanks to those experiences I knew that I was where I should be. This journey to St. Mary's was going to take just over two and a half hours so I contented myself by watching the sea and the birds that followed in our wake.

I had always enjoyed my Grandpa's company. He was the quintessential Cornishman. He was of average height but had the broadest shoulders I have ever seen on anyone, even in his sixties he was a strong, formidable man. What endeared Gramps to everyone was his quick wit and observations, his eyes twinkled when he was up to mischief or telling a story. I can still hear his deep voice and laughter now. His family went back through many generations of miners. There is an old saying 'Down every hole you will find a Cornishman.' He was no exception, he had worked in a mine in Ghana for several years as well as serving his country in India, Burma and Egypt during the Second World War. He was a great raconteur but you had to watch out for him as he would say something profound followed by his catchphrase 'Yep, thats as true as I'm standing over there.' For two young slightly naïve lads, my brother and I would often get caught out or end up scratching our heads wondering if the long anecdote that had gripped us was totally true or not. The main thing was, he was great company and this day was no exception.

The time passed by and it was not long before we were joined by other passengers out on deck, some were looking extremely pale and ill at ease. Well, to Gramps this was too good an opportunity to miss. His sense of mischief was present again when he gently nudged me and said 'We'll be there soon boy. I can't wait to have some nice greasy sausages and chips with plenty of salt, vinegar and sauce on them. Eh?'

That was too much for the poor delicate stomachs of about four people standing nearby, who within seconds of overhearing Gramps culinary desires were soon helplessly bringing up their breakfasts over the side of the ferry. As we bobbed up and down Gramps quielty chortled to himself, he had found something to amuse and help pass the time. I tried not to laugh out loud, he could be a devil sometimes.

Finally we docked at the busy quay at St Mary's. We were reuntied with Dad and Dominic who seemed to have returned to his usual self: independent (even at that age) and restless. Dominic was a doer not a talker, he had lots of energy then and this trait carried on into his adult life. As the saying goes 'Show me the boy and I'll show you the man.' He was soon asking where we were going to go? and what were we going to do? Along with half a dozen other enquiries all asked in staccato machine gun like fashion. Dad looked resigned and patiently tried to answer Dominic.

St Mary's was a bustling place (well, obviously after a large ferry load of passengers had arrived), looking around there were fishing boats and yachts everywhere, the harbour had shops, restaurants and galleries. After a quick look around we grabbed lunch and went for a coastal walk, the plan was to stop somewhere scenic and enjoy being on terra firma once more.

After getting directions from a local we walked around the garrison, it took about an hour and offered spectacular views of the other islands and beaches. Everywhere we looked was the sea, marram grass, sand dunes and marshland. There were lots of rare plants and even flowers from Africa. This was different to the mainland. I was soaking it all up, glad to be out and somewhere different. This was my scene, not looking at a watch and just enjoying being somewhere with new sights and plenty of space. Dominic had earlier looked longingly at a motorbike, funnily enough travelling to an island and motorbikes would later become a big integral part of his life. As I mentioned earlier this trip probably unwittingly set in motion lots of things for my brother and I.

We found a nice spot on the rocky coastline. The weather had calmed down again and the sun even managed to make a guest appearance. It was generally to be an unsettled day though. Fortunately for us at that time when our stomachs were rumbling and we were in an exposed place we managed to sit down and enjoy some food and undisturbed rest. We sat in silence for a while just enjoying the ambience and fresh air after the ferry trip and ensuing bun fight in the harbour when everyone had rushed in different directions at once.

I looked over at my Dad and was pleased to see a relaxed, content expression on his face. He more than any of us needed the rest and the peace for a day. All I can remember from my youth is my Dad starting work really early and finishing late. He never complained and I don't recall one word said in anger from him, but you could tell he was tired. This holiday was one of those rare occasions where he could kick back and relax with his two sons. Normally we would manage a bike ride, swim or game of golf on a Sunday.

Tellingly I remember him years before this trip taking us to the cinema to see a Double matinee of 'Star Wars' and 'The Empire Strikes Back' I think as soon as the lights dimmed Dad fell asleep only to be woken by one of us at the end credits nudging him excitedly saying 'Great films Dad!' to which he would awaken startled probably wondering what the hell had happened to the last four hours of his life and what was this room he was waking up in? And who were all these other people? Like I said Dad was a hard worker but also a legendary sleeper. One minute you could be talking to him the next he was gone...thankfully for this trip he remained conscious and happy.

Its funny when you are a kid you don't see these things, but looking back now as you get older you have to grab every free moment and opportunity that comes your way, and if you find yourself falling asleep in unusual places, then you are tired and in need of a break!

I think one of us was complaining how long and uncomfortable the ferry trip was when Gramps reminded us that when he was a young man the ship that took him to India was badly overcrowded and took several weeks to reach its destination. I tried to imagine what that must have been like but gave up. Being packed like sardines on a ship with people farting and being sick for weeks did not bear dwelling on for long. Gramps told us that he learned to play cards on that trip and was probably the reason why he always beat us. Often when we had a pack he would show us all his tricks and how to shuffle the pack which we tried hard to emulate, usually with the consequence of cards flying off all over the place and him laughing.

Dad and Gramps conferred for a while as Dominic and I finished our food and drink. Not long after we were offered a trip to the neighbouring island of Tresco. I think Dominic and I exchanged glances and said 'Yes!' simultaneously. Although it meant another boat trip, this one was shorter and Tresco promised to be more exotic than St Mary's. We were only there for a day anyway.

So about an hour later we found ourselves on a small craft with an outrigger and motor. This time there were only a handful of other passengers, as soon as we left the harbour it began to rain. On top of that once we were a way out the sea became, you guessed it, choppy! So this very small boat that felt more like a flimsy raft or canoe, began to roll and lurch. Water crashed over the sides as we bobbed up and down. Great! We have just entered the ninth circle of hell! I thought. Gramps saw the others discomfort and could not supress a big belly laugh. Dad smiled encouragingly at me and Dominic had a look on his face that I would see often in years to come when a race meeting or something mechanical was not going right for him. So, there we were at the mercy of the elements in our flimsy jackets, getting soaked from above and below and then the weather changed again.

Just as we neared Tresco, the sun broke through between the clouds and the violent lurching and listing stopped and we were on solid ground once more. Yet another lesson in life learned, it can get rough sometimes, but it does not stay that way forever.

Tresco was worth the ride. It was like another world. A small compact island with lots of colour and an eco system all of its own. The sand was golden and there was a bronze aged tomb on the island as well. We visited the sub-tropical Abbey Garden, home to twenty thousand exotic species so we were told. It did not disappoint, even for two teenage boys, there were palm trees and more tropical plants and birds than anywhere we had seen before. It really was like being somewhere else, more like on the other side of the world on a pacific island rather than just on our doorstep.

After a good look around and much animated chatter time was getting on and it dawned on Dad and Gramps that we would have to leave this slice of tropical tranquility and head back to St Mary's and the fery home. One island hop later and we were soon boarding the ferry home. The day had flown by but despite the queasiness and the occasional soaking I think we all left with something positive from the day out.

Gramps had perhaps gone to a place in his head that he had not been to for a long time, remembering a time when he was younger as well as indulging in some characteristic mischief and quick-witted observations. Dad had managed to stay conscious and enjoy a day of leisure with his sons and with work far from his mind. Dad always enjoyed Gramps company and it was good to hear them both laugh together. Dominic had a portent into his future, forever restless and dreaming of future challenges.

Me? well I had learned how good it felt to travel to somewhere new with people I really cared about. That fleeting freedom that only travel and shared experince can bring, a moment when you are truly at peace with yourself and happy to be just where you are. It had been a good day out.